


We Die As We Were Born, Together

by latenightrambles



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-04 21:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18820765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/latenightrambles/pseuds/latenightrambles
Summary: Jamie flees Winterfell, riding hard to King's Landing and his sister.





	We Die As We Were Born, Together

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Season 8 Episode 5
> 
> So, I didn't like the end of the Jamie/Cersei arc. I didn't want a happy ending, but I did want something meaningful. This is my attempt to create it.

Jamie woke sweating, fading nightmares enveloping him in heat and fear.

He had rode hard from Winterfell, though he wasn't sure for how long. Days? Weeks? Sometimes it felt like he had always been riding, always fleeing. He stopped only when his horse needed rest. Jamie himself hated resting, hated the nightmares that came every time he closed his eyes. He dreamt of death, and fire, and his own weakness. He dreamt of shit, and blood, and the smell of a battlefield. And he dreamt of her. His sister, his lover, his home.

Some dreams brought her to him smiling, her arms outstretched. Her laughter would ring like bells, even in the worst of the dreams. Other times she appeared like the lion, bearing her teeth and threatening to rip his throat out. No matter which Cersei he saw, in the dream he would always draw his sword, and she would laugh. "You won't kill me," dream Cersei would whisper. Then the sound of Brienne crying would wash over him.

When he woke it took everything he had not to turn around, to ride back to Winterfell. He had to remind himself that Ser Brienne of Tarth deserved better than Jamie fucking Lannister.

Jamie dunked his head in the small creek he had slept near. The water and muddy and cold, but it felt better than the sweat. The cold seemed to also wash away the lingering nightmare, clearing his head of the images of the dead fighting. Though he could still see Cersei, her hair glowing like a flame amongst all the death. And he could still hear Brienne's tears, like a ghost haunting his mind.

With a quick glance back, Jamie pulled himself back onto his horse. Regrets seemed to make his entire body feel heavier than it should, made his bones ache and his muscles burn. But there was still more road to travel, especially if he planned to get around the army that marched south. His only hope was that they were as tired as he was. One man could slip through places an entire army could not, and if they marched slow enough he could make it to the city before them.

Jamie tried not to think of what would happen once he arrived. The thought had plagued him on the first day of travel. He wanted to drive his sword straight through Cersei's chest, and he wanted to fall into her arms and swear he would never leave her again. Could he be both, her savior and her killer? His chest burned at the thoughts until he thought his heart might stop beating. Too many times he had to stop his horse and fall to the ground, the pain of the choice almost too much to bear. 

Now Jamie pushed those thoughts from his head. He focused only on what he knew. The army would move south along specific routes if they were smart. That made his own path easier to navigate. And if they were stupid, he could still outmaneuver them through some of the small villages and isolated areas along the way. He was a soldier, a knight, and far more familiar with the lands between Winterfell and King's Landing. As he rode he created strategies in his mind, turning it into a game. He had been captured before, and he would not let it happen again. 

 


End file.
